"Agnes, do you know what love is?"
"What a question. Of course I do."
"What is it?"
"Oh, it's er--er--don't you know what it is?"
"Yes, Agnes, it is a glorious defeat of the heart."
"Oh, I don't think so. It's more a victory than a defeat."
"No, the heart surrenders." They heard the Judge exclaim, "No, it is
not going to stop."
"Agnes, did your heart ever surrender?"
"You must not ask me that."
"Why not? Did your heart ever fight till it was so tired that it had to
give up--surrender?"
"You mustn't ask me that. You'll make me cry." She hid her eyes.
"In sorrow, Agnes?"
"No--no, in happiness."
He put his arms about her, kissed her, pouring forth his dream of the
fountain and the evening in summer. The Judge startled them. "Don't
let me disturb your tableau," he said, laughing, "but I must see my son
in here alone, not in the office where--where the safe is."
"Come," said Bradley, taking Agnes by the hand, "Let us watch with
them."
As they arose the Judge looked at Agnes. "Ah, I see happiness in your
face, little one. Keep it there, Bradley, for it is God-given." He
took the preacher's hand. "God bless you, Bradley. You are a good
fellow."
"Don't call him fellow, Mr. Judge," said the girl, pretending to pout.
"Yes, fellow," Bradley replied. "It is closer to the weakness of man."
"Closer to his heart, Bradley," said the Judge.
"Yes," said Bradley, and then he spoke to Agnes. "Come with me."
"Anywhere with you," she replied, taking his arm and looking up into his
face. They passed out, and the Judge stood, waiting. William appeared
at the door. "It's all right now, John."
"What's all right?"
"That date--the one that caused so much trouble one night. It was on
the tenth."
"Is it finally settled?" the Judge asked, listening.
"Yes, sir, finally, and nothing can throw me off. Here comes Howard."
The Judge motioned, and William withdrew. Howard's footsteps were
heard. The old man stood with his face turned from the door, striving
to master himself. He felt that surely he should break down. Howard
stepped into the room. "Father," he said. The Judge turned, and,
perfectly calm, held forth his hand. Howard grasped it. "My son, let us
be masters of ourselves. Let us be strong, for you will have need of
strength. I have something to tell you."
"No," Howard replied. "You have nothing to tell. George met me at the
station and told me. I have forgiven him. I know how he has suffered.
I have seen his struggles. He must not be sent away. I have brought him
back with me. He is out there."
"Howard," said the old man, "you are a noble fellow."
Howard stepped to the door and called Bodney. When he entered the Judge
said: "George, I am going to rent an office in a modern building. That
old place is worn out. We are going to start new. Ah, come in,
Florence."
"I have simply come to tell you that dinner is ready," she said, with
tears in her eyes.
"Yes," said the Judge. "Come, boys." Florence led the way, looking
back, smiling, and the old man went out between Bodney and Howard, with
his hands resting on their shoulders. In the hall stood Agnes, the
preacher and William. The preacher was speaking. "If there were but
one word to express all the qualities of God, I should select the word
forgiveness," he said.